


Folie à Deux

by KendraLuehr



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hotel Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Psychological Trauma, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraLuehr/pseuds/KendraLuehr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I know who you're reaching for. I <i>know."</i>  Will x Abigail. Dark themes and strong sexual content. (Completely revised)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blinding

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally published on fanfiction.net on April 20, 2013, and was my first fanfic for the fandom. Because of this, there's a lot of moments that I find EXTREMELY cringe-worthy, so I've decided to re-write snippets of the story. So even though most of it will stay the same, there are plenty of elements that will be different (and hopefully better).
> 
> In this story, Abigail is seventeen/underage, but she turns eighteen during a later chapter. I've also explored a squicky fan theory regarding Garrett Jacob Hobbs, so be forewarned that there's a lot of dark, sensitive subject matter in this fic.

Will Graham jerked awake, gasping for breath as he fumbled for the lamp on his nightstand. A bloom of yellow light flooded the room and an unwelcome, all too familiar ache flared up between his legs.

Abigail Hobbs…she was…

“God _damn_ it!”

Panicking, Will threw back his covers and shot upright. It was all happening too fast. Much, _much_ too fast. For the past 48 hours he’d been in limbo, wondering how such an innocent, innocuous meeting had gone so awry.

First Abigail had asked him to stay with her. Since her life had been in danger mere hours before, it hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea at the time. The nurses were inadequate, she’d said, and she needed the companionship of someone who understood her… Of someone who understood her _father._

Despite the pain eating away at his insides, Will had agreed. Perhaps a little too quickly, now that he thought about it, but Dr. Lecter had been right when he’d suggested Will felt responsible. He _was_ responsible, and that responsibility had cost him dearly.

He could still see the earnest, imploring look in her eyes…the gentle movement of her lips as she spoke the poisonous truth. She was different, and she knew he was different, too.

And then…

Will shuddered.

She’d asked for a hug – a normal, respectable reaction for those in need of moral support, but the act had been twisted to the point of perversion. When Abigail entered his arms, she’d turned her face and brushed those warm, satin lips against the curve of his neck. His blood had boiled. He’d grasped at the fabric of her shirt, twisting it between his hands and desperately trying to avoid any further contact.

Had she done it on purpose? Was she toying with his fragile state of mind? Or, more than likely, was it just an accident made by a grieving girl?

Girl… She _was_ just a girl, wasn’t she? Abigail couldn’t be more than eighteen, if that, yet he’d still gone home, gotten a cold shower, and then crawled into bed with a hand curled between his legs. When he finally came, he was filled with self-loathing instead of sweet relief.

What had made him feel this way? He wasn’t normally like this… He _wasn’t._

It was all Abigail Hobbs’ fault.

Will snorted. Had he been thinking like perps for so long that he was actually starting to _agree_ with them? His unprecedented attraction was no fault of Abigail’s. Try as he might to deflect the blame, he knew he was the one in the wrong. That poor, innocent girl could _never_ be held accountable for his sick, twisted thought process, and the more he dwelt on it, the more it scared him. Was he going mad? Was his guilt warping his reality? Was it making him desire things he never had or _would_ have before?

Slapping the side of his face, Will checked the clock on his bed stand. 5:24 a.m…he might as well get up and head in to Dr. Lecter’s office. If anyone could get him to snap out of his stupor, it was Lecter.

With this thought improving his spirits, Will rose from his bed and groped for the shirt on the back of his chair.

 

* * *

 

Though his face was freshly washed and he now wore clean clothes, Will couldn’t erase the worn, haggard look from his face. His eyes were bloodshot, and his carelessly whiskered cheeks furthered the appearance of madness. If anyone noticed, they failed to say so. Will managed to tear down the hallway undetected, his head bowed to further the impression of being anti-social. He wasn’t in the mood for talking – he _couldn’t_ talk. Not without being reminded of his earlier sins.

 _Everything_ reminded him of what a monster he was.

Taking a deep breath, Will ducked into Lecter’s office with the intention of emotional purging – of giving his confession to the metaphorical priest – but instead found himself privy to his worst possible nightmare.

There, standing with her back to him was the ever-tormented Abigail Hobbs. Though she was talking to Lecter, the words did not register in Will’s ears; only the sounds as the doctor slowly raised his eyes to regard him.

“Abigail, we have a guest,” he announced, his cold, shark-like gaze now training on the girl. “I trust he has come to see you.”

“Uhhh… _you,_ actually,” Will desperately backpedaled. “But if this is a bad time, I could just come back and-”

“Nonsense. Join us, if you please.”

Will felt trapped. When Abigail’s deep blue eyes cut toward him, he sucked a breath and unsteadily stepped back.

 _‘I know who you’re reaching for – I **know** ,’ _Eldon Stammet’s words tauntingly echoed in his head. _‘Abigail Hobbs – you would have found her in a field, where she was finally able to reach back.’_

Mouth dry, Will turned and headed back toward the door. No one made a sound. As he increased the speed of his stride, he couldn’t help but wonder if they knew what he was thinking. Were they disgusted? Did they loathe him as much as he loathed himself?

Anxiously turning a corner, Will lurched over a trash can and dry-heaved violently. Despite the lack of expulsion, he could still taste bile. He shakily wiped his mouth and closed his eyes.

“Will?”

Startled, he abruptly pin-wheeled around, trembling as he beheld the absolute _last_ person he wanted to see. He swallowed. “Um…yes?”

“You’re acting kind of funny. Speaking as a person who’s _also_ been acting kind of funny, I figured I’d see if you were alright.” Abigail’s large eyes regarded him then, her hands folding as she studied his face. Aside from the open-mouthed stare he was giving her, she couldn’t discern what was troubling him.

“Are you still upset about what happened?”

Since that could cover many a number of things, Will paused, then gave a stiff little nod.

Abigail mirrored his nod. “Yeah…me, too,” she whispered. “I’ve started having nightmares…bad ones.” Biting her lip, her face grew desperate as she asked, “How do you do it, Will? When you’re alone with your thoughts, how do you think about all of this without going crazy?”

Will jerked back as if he’d been slapped. He was surprised by the relative calm in which he responded, “I don’t.”

“You…you _don’t?”_ Abigail’s expression was filled with heart-breaking defeat. Fumbling for what she wished to say next, a lump formed in her throat as she blurted, “You could help me… I-I mean, we could help each other. Please, Will, I don’t know who else to turn to… Nobody else understands.”

“Try Dr. Lecter. Call me crazy, but I’ve heard he’s a licensed professional.” Trying to ignore the hurt look in her eyes, Will spun on his heel and went stalking toward the exit. He almost expected Abigail to pursue him, but fortunately she did not. With any luck, she’d take the hint and never seek comfort from him again, fore he was too afraid of what having her close would do to him...of what he'd do to _her._


	2. On the Warpath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's obsession worsens. Mild sexual content warning.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Will glanced up from his book and grimaced. It was probably Crawford stopping by from Quantico, intent on dragging him out to yet _another_ crime scene. As he searched for a good stopping place, the knocking grew more persistent.

“Alright, _alright,”_ Will grumbled. Tossing his book onto the coffee table, he irritably padded to the front door. He angled his head toward the oak slab and listened. “Yeah?”

Silence.

Assuming it was some punk trying to cause trouble, Will irritably opened the door and prepared to give the prankster an earful. The sight that greeted him, however, caused all words of malice to instantly die on his tongue.

“Abigail?”

She gazed up at him with hollow, yet imploring eyes, her chest heaving like a frantic sparrow’s as she stepped further into the porch light. The sudden spectacle caused Will to stagger back.

“Christ, Abby, are you…are you _bleeding?”_

Abigail gave an eerie smile in response, her right hand smearing the blood splattered across her chest. Her face, neck, and the majority of her white nightgown were also covered in gore.

Now stepping forward, she raised her left hand and presented a severed stag’s head. Will cried out and jerked aside when she threw it at his feet, the soft, blood-matted head rolling to a stop somewhere behind him.

“Why are you here?” he demanded. “What are you trying to prove?”

Abigail’s lips pulled back to reveal several dark, blood-stained teeth. Had she… _eaten_ the stag?

“I wanna be bad, Will,” she whispered. “Teach me to be bad like you.”

Will felt his insides folding in on themselves. “I…I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’ve never been intentionally bad in my life.”

“But you _are_ bad, Will,” Abigail lowly insisted. “You’re the reason I’m like this…you’ve made me what I am.”

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Just shut the hell up!”

“Don’t fight it, Will…you _want_ this.”

“No, I _don’t!”_

Wordlessly, Abigail stepped forward and grabbed Will by the arms, her strength surprising him when she roughly slammed his back against the door. With a soft moan, she angled her mouth into his. Her tongue violated him as she forced the taste of warm, coppery blood to fill his mouth.

Will jerked back in shock. A droplet of crimson trickled from his lips, and Abigail immediately licked it away. The slow, sensual drag of her tongue caused his body to stiffen, a choked cry catching in his throat when she seized him between the legs.

Abigail nipped his chin. When Will trembled uselessly in her grasp she cupped him yet again, all the while studying his face as she stroked and squeezed him through the fabric of his boxers. She wanted to know what he liked.

With his head lolling back against the door, Will groaned and traitorously pressed his hips into her searching hand. She released him then, pushing his boxers down to his knees before pressing a deep, lingering kiss above his navel. She felt him twitch as he grasped her shoulder, his fingers digging to the point of pain as her tongue flicked across his skin.

 _Yesyesyesyes._ She was so _close_ to where he needed to be touched… So close that he was going mad with the painful anticipation.

Gazing down at her through hooded lids, Will panted when she grasped him tightly between her hands. “W-wait, I…”

“Shhh.” Abigail licked him then and he clenched his teeth, releasing a strangled sound as she eased him into her mouth. Smoothing her tongue along his hardness, she grabbed his hips and drew him in until his tip rested against her throat, her body shuddering as she allowed her gag reflex to massage him. She never even choked.

Abigail lifted the skirt to her nightgown and began stroking her swollen folds. If Will wouldn’t touch her, she would be content to touch herself. Easing two fingers inside her slick heat, she bucked and twisted her hips into her probing hand as she sucked, using the tight ring of her mouth to increase the pressure in his loins.

Will’s knees nearly buckled. Watching as she pleasured them both at the same time, he fisted her dark locks and pressed down so that more of him eased into her mouth. Abigail made a soft noise of approval.

By now they were both covered in blood, yet neither seemed to care.

Shivering, Abigail moved to rise back to her feet, but Will pulled her flush against his throbbing arousal, his teeth gritting when she rolled her hips against his straining erection. The girl’s eyes burned into his as she looked up at him, her lips quirking into a coy little smile. It was clear she was pleased by the effect she was having over him. Before he could even think to speak, a shrill, harsh vibrating noise seemed to shake the room. Will clapped his hands over his ears and shuddered. The sound was getting louder…

“Aren’t you going to answer that, Will?”

He looked up at Abigail in bewilderment. “I… _what?”_

“Answer it, Will – it’s for you.”

“But I…we just…”

 _“Answer_ the damn phone!”

Vaulting upright as though attached to a spring, Will took in several deep, panicked breaths as he gazed around him in bewilderment. Abigail was… _gone?_ Shit, he’d done it again!

Embarrassed over his physical state, he passed a hand over his mouth and listened as his cell continued to ring on the nightstand. Frustrated, he flipped it open and recognized the number as Jack Crawford’s. He accepted the call and tried his best to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, what do you want?”

“Well hello to you, too! Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Graham?”

Will grimaced and checked his clock. “Jack, it’s three-thirty in the morning – I shouldn’t be anywhere _near_ ‘waking up on the wrong side of the bed’ just yet.” Grabbing his glasses off the nightstand, he placed them on the bridge of his nose and asked, “So what couldn’t wait until a normal hour? I take it you’ve got a case for me? Because I swear to God, Jack, if you’re using me for pillow talk instead of your wife, I’ll-”

“Relax, Will, you’re starting to develop a sense of humor.” After letting that good-natured barb sink in, Crawford’s tone grew decidedly serious. “As always, you’re completely right. We’ve got a case over in Birmingham, so I expect you to meet me at Quantico in half an hour.”

“Right. Got it. Just let me get some pants on first.”

He heard Jack snort. “Please do. Lounds already has you pegged as a sociopath, so we don’t need to add ‘flasher’ to the ever-growing list.”

Will smiled in spite of himself. “Yeah, sure – see you in thirty.” After he hung up, he already had a firm grip on himself as he went stumbling into the bathroom. Sometimes erotic dreams were worse than nightmares.

 

* * *

 

The minute Will stepped into Crawford’s office, he was mindful of how unsteady his legs were due to the crude, lascivious actions he’d taken earlier that morning. Fortunately for him, nobody seemed to notice. Jack stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, and his dark brows knitted in a way that made him seem grim and tired. He didn’t even have to speak, because Will knew what was coming next.

“How many bodies?” he asked. Sometimes it was best to just beat Jack to the punch.

“Two this time – we received reports on a couple missing persons found in a forest.” Rubbing at his soul patch, he rolled his eyes toward Lecter and shrugged. “As you know, we’ll need you to accompany us, Doctor. I don’t feel that Will’s in a sound frame of mind just yet, and quite frankly, I think you feel that way, too.”

Will frowned. “I _am_ right here, you know. Despite what you might think, I’m not going to fight you on this – let’s just go before it gets too dark to make heads or tails of the grounds.”

Lecter had remained stonily silent during all of this, so Will couldn’t help but regard him with caution. The doctor’s eyes were chilled and probing, almost as if he knew something that no one else was privy to.

Will felt his blood run cold. Did Lecter know about…? No. It wasn’t possible. How _could_ it be possible? The man may’ve been a gifted psychiatrist, but he wasn’t a mind reader.

Trying his best to avoid Lecter’s penetrating stare, Will pretended to check the safety on his gun. When he couldn’t keep using the simple task as an excuse, he nodded to Jack before heading toward the exit. He didn’t stop shaking until he reached his car.

 

* * *

 

It was midday by the time the FBI units reached the crime scene and, as always, Will was left alone to ponder the site. Two bodies had been randomly spliced together like a macabre puzzle – the wounds were also coinciding, and alluded to the idea that both had been bludgeoned before being entwined. Though Will was accustomed to bizarre cases, this one took on a whole new level. It seemed the killer believed they were a modern day Van Gogh.

Exhaling through his nostrils, Will bowed his head and closed his eyes. Wind whistled through his hair and he clenched his fists, his overactive imagination plotting out the possibilities of what had happened.

Body number one…blunt force trauma to the back of the head, followed by several knifed hash marks on the torso. After attacking this victim, the killer obviously sought out someone of a similar stature and background. The missing person reports proved this and more. Once body number one was dead and cold, the killer turned on victim number two, and…

Abigail’s face flashed across Will’s mind and he jolted, stunned at the sensory overload that just flooded his system. Her hands, teeth, and tongue were stroking him all over…her eyes were staring into his soul…she was-

 _“Will?_   Will, what’s wrong?”

Blinking back his frustration, he turned toward Jack and self-consciously curled his shoulders. “Nothing, I just…I’m afraid I’ve done all I can for now, so I’ll need some time to stew it over.” Catching Crawford’s admonishing look, he quickly defended, “Nothing was ever achieved in a day, you know. Even God took a whole week to create the Earth.”

Jack nodded. “Right, of course – Price!” He motioned to the analyst and pointed to a nearby tree. “Go ahead and swab that down for test results, would you? And while you’re at it, check the dirt for any possible hairs or clothing fibers.”

Will exhaled and turned away from the crime scene. At the moment he was tired – _unbearably_ tired – and he just wanted a bit of time to relax. The events leading up to his disturbing dream were still weighing heavily on his mind.

Lecter appeared at his side out of nowhere. “You seem troubled,” he spoke, his accent thick and non-judgmental. “Do you wish to discuss what you saw?”

Will elevated his shoulders. “Maybe… Though I really don’t want Jack knowing about this. Would you mind if we stopped by your office?”

“Of course not. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Lecter was preparing some things in his workspace, so he told Will to take a few blocks around the building until he was ready for him. Will, needless to say, was more than grateful to the much-needed alone time. He wasn’t even sure he was making the right decision by confiding in his doctor. Lecter, after all, might be morally obligated to report any such discrepancies.

Chatter suddenly erupted from one of the hall rooms. Distracted, Will turned his attention to the noise and craned his head to see what was going on. As he did so, he gave a soft grunt when his shoulder clipped a petite bystander.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you prick?” came the nasty, irate response.

Will was stunned by the growling force of the words. Realizing that it was Abigail, he sucked a breath and moved to help pick up the things she’d spilled from her purse.

She fiercely jerked her belongings away from him. “Thanks, but I can do it myself.”

Even though Will could tell she was angry because of their talk, he didn’t let this fact deter him. Studying her puckered brow, he curiously asked her, “What are you doing here? You should really be with a nurse right now.”

“What’s it to you?” Abigail snapped. “I got a total ‘fuck off’ vibe from you yesterday afternoon, so don’t act like you care about me.”

Will swallowed, his hands clenching as he remained in a crouched position. “But I _do_ care about you, Abigail…and maybe that’s the problem.”

“Don’t you tell me that,” she snarled. “What, so you think that by saying you ‘care,’ I’ll forget about what happened yesterday? Putting the blame on me isn’t going to work!”

“But I…”

“No!” she fiercely interjected. “I get that you’ve got all those weird, psycho nightmares, but guess what? I have them, too! How do you think _I_ feel, huh? It’s like you think you’ve got some sort of monopoly on tragedy, you sick, self-pitying _jerk!”_

Abigail flailed against him then, her tiny fists beating against his chest as she sobbed. Her words struck a chord in Will that left him breathless. She was right…he _was_ selfish. So selfish that he knew he needed one more thing of her.

Wordlessly pulling Abigail toward him, he urged his warm mouth over the slant of her gasping lips. Stealing her breath, he angled his face roughly into hers and grasped at her cheeks, desperate to feel the flutter of her pulse; the one sign that proved she might need him as much as he needed her.

Will heard her whimper and felt her hands come to his chest, his lips pressing more deeply into hers as he kissed her hard and frantically.

He only came back to reality when he tasted Abigail’s warm, salty tears. Breaking the kiss with a panicked breath, he blinked while observing her face cradled between his hands. Her eyes were wide and confused, and her bottom lip quivered as her tear-stained cheeks glistened in the overhead lights.

Will choked and hurriedly lurched away from her. “I’m sorry,” he moaned. “Oh God, I’m _so_ sorry…”

Abigail moved as if to rise off the floor, but he’d already dashed forward and thrown himself into the safety of the men’s bathroom. Feeling his gag reflex beginning to work, he stumbled over to the sink and abruptly vaulted himself across the surface. His limbs trembled as he tried to stave off the ever-growing nausea.

Images of Abigail taking him in her mouth flashed across his eyes and he vomited, bracing himself against the sink as the unwelcome taste of bile expelled from his mouth. He shuddered. He needed sleep…he needed the chance to recuperate from all that had been happening as of late. And, most importantly, he needed to stay as far away from Abigail Hobbs as possible.

After rinsing out his mouth and spitting into the sink, Will abandoned the bathroom and peeked out into the hallway. He was alone.

Silently rambling off a litany of thanks, he rubbed the side of his whiskered cheek and made his way back to Lecter’s office. The doctor was studiously bent over his desk, scribbling out God only knows what on a document file.

“Can I come back in now?” Will winced at how strained his voice sounded.

“But of course,” Lecter said without looking up. “Please have a seat.”

Will obediently complied, his expression vacant as he practically collapsed into the offered chair. “I’ve done something…terrible,” he whispered.

Lecter finally regarded him, closing his folder with the manner of one deep in thought. Though he hadn’t been provoked, Will took this as a sign to continue.

“Abigail, she…I-I mean, we just…” Groaning, he placed his head in his hands and heaved a shaky breath. “I kissed her. Oh Christ, Lecter, I actually _kissed_ that poor kid.”

A beat elapsed, then Lecter asked him, “Do you desire Abigail Hobbs?”

Will jerked to attention, both shocked and disgusted by the lewd assumption. Upon seeing that there wasn’t a hint of derision or mirth in his doctor’s face, he shook his head and rolled his shoulders forward. “I…I don’t know.”

“There is no need to hide from the truth, Will. The human psyche always knows what it wants,” Lecter admonished. “Our brains have a defense mechanism that tricks us into believing a lie, and all for the sake of not revealing our true desires. So I shall ask you again: what is it that you _want_ from Abigail?”

Will stared back at Lecter, his hands covering his mouth as he searched his soul for answers. What _did_ he want from her? And once he had her, what the hell did he hope to gain from the experience?

“I…” He choked, shaking his head. “I think maybe I’m looking for someone who knows what I’m going through. She…she actually understands me.”

Again Eldon Stammet’s words echoed through his mind, and he miserably closed his eyes.

“Then you must do what you see fit,” Lecter acknowledged. “If Abigail Hobbs is the one who can keep you from falling over the precipice, you must reach out to her.”

_‘You would have found her in a field where she was finally able to reach back.’_

Will shot up from his perch as if he’d been burned. “I…I have to go now,” he blurted. “But thank you…for the advice.”

As Will flew out the door in a blur of disconcertion, Lecter folded his hands and smiled.


	3. Cold Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail begs to be touched. Strong sexual content warning.

He’d kissed her… He’d actually _kissed_ his own ward. Leaning against his podium, Will gazed out at the empty classroom and blinked. Even now, after all these hours of allowing the sordid information to sink in, it all still seemed so surreal. And Abigail hadn’t exactly pushed him away, either… Did that mean she wanted him?

“Will?”

He jerked to attention, flustered when Alana Bloom came walking toward him.

“It’s too nice a day to be alone, don’t you think? Come on. A few agents have invited me out to lunch, and I’d love it if you could join us.”

Will stared back at her, his mind reeling with a million options of how to politely say no. Alana was a very beautiful woman, so why wasn’t he interested?

 _‘It’s because she doesn’t understand you,’_ his mind taunted. _‘She’ll never know you like Abigail.’_

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Just shut _up!”_ Whacking at the side of his head, he only pretended to brush back his hair when he realized Alana was gawking at him.

“Will, are you feeling alright?” she asked. “You seem a little…tense.”

Well _that_ was the biggest understatement of the century. Had he said anything out loud? And if so, how much had Alana heard?

He jerked back when she touched his arm. “If sessions with Dr. Lecter aren’t working, you know where to find me.” Here she smiled and ran her hand down along his elbow.

Will nodded and moved away from her, limbs trembling as he began to pack up his briefcase. “Uh-huh, sure…thank you.”

“I’m sorry you won’t be joining us.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Giving him one last searching look, Alana finally settled on a weak smile and left him alone to the prison of his mind. At this rate, Will would never get anything accomplished. Crawford was still expecting results for the Van Gogh murders. How could he even _dream_ of solving the case when Abigail was constantly haunting him?

He needed to go home, he decided. If he got the chance to rest, even for a little while, it was possible that he could finally concentrate.

 

* * *

 

When a gentle knocking roused Will from his light slumber, he groaned into his pillow and curled up like a cat. Perhaps it was Alana again? Her persistence was starting to get on his nerves.

Staggering out of bed, he padded out into the hallway and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Aside from his wild, disheveled hair, he didn’t seem to realize his state of dress when he opened the door. Unfortunately for him, Abigail Hobbs did.

“Um…hi,” she hesitantly greeted. Sending a discreet glance toward his tight boxers, she blushed and raised her eyes to his again. “Are you…seeing someone in there?”

Will gave her a funny look. “Huh? What do you…? _Oh.”_ Suddenly getting her meaning, he cleared his throat and assured her, “No, no, I was just sleeping – is something wrong?” He indicated the overnight bag in her arms.

Shifting uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny, Abigail shrugged and mumbled, “I dunno, I just…can I stay here tonight? I’m afraid of having another nightmare…”

Will felt bile rise in the back of his throat. “B-but what about Dr. Bloom? And the hospital? Haven’t they been helping you?”

“Well sure, but they can’t be with me every waking hour of the day.” Now stepping forward, she grabbed Will’s wrist and stroked along the veins in his arm. “Please, Will,” she begged, _“please_ don’t make me wake up alone tonight. I couldn’t stand it.”

With his heart thudding hollowly in his ears, he regarded her with an ever-growing caution. Was she trying to trick him? Was this her way of seeking revenge for his actions?

And yet, in spite of his fears and innermost demons, Will knew he could never deny her. He cared far too much about Abigail. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he ushered her into the house and agreed, “Yeah, sure… You can stay in the guest bedroom at the end of the hall.”

When Abigail thanked him, her arms came around his waist in a grateful squeeze. “I promise I’ll keep to myself,” she assured him. “Heck, you won’t even know I’m here!” As she pulled away, Will could’ve sworn he felt her hand lightly graze his backside. Oh, God…was he hallucinating right now? There was no way she could ever want him like that – none at _all._ With any luck, she’d meet some boy in school, then forget all about him ever having touched her. Problem solved.

“Do you have any clothes?”

Will snapped to attention, realizing that she’d dropped off her things and was now standing back in front of him. “Uhh…well yeah, of course I do. Why do you ask?”

“I figured you might want to wear some,” she teased. With a twinkle in her eye, Abigail collapsed into an easy chair and reclined so that her legs were suspended. As she did so, the skirt she was wearing rode up her thighs to an indecent degree.

Will swallowed. Just like in the hospital, he couldn’t tell whether or not she was doing these things on purpose. And if she was, what was she hoping to do? Drive him mad?

“Can I watch TV?”

“Uhh…” Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind, he gave an uneasy smile and agreed, “Yeah, sure… Just don’t go past channel 500. That stuff’s a little hardcore for someone your age.”

“Oh, _please._ I’m not a kid anymore, Will – I think I can handle some porn.” Thrilled when he stared at her in horror, she snidely asked him, “What, cat got your tongue? Or maybe Dr. _Bloom?”_

Though he’d more than likely imagined it, Will could’ve sworn there was a hint of jealousy in Abigail’s voice.

He breathed a nervous laugh. “No, no – I’m not used to having company, that’s all. It’s just been me and my dogs lately.”

“Bummer,” Abigail said. “I think I’d go crazy if I lived out here all by myself… Or rather, crazy- _er.”_

Will exhaled through his nostrils. Is that what Abigail believed? Did she think he was crazy?

 “Hey, why don’t you join me?”

He immediately looked up, appearing uncomfortable as she scooted over and patted the spot beside her. “I…I don’t think I should…”

“Oh, c’mon! Is this because of our kiss?” Abigail searched his face, unable to prevent a small smile when he visibly paled. “Don’t worry, I’ve had worse,” she assured him. “If you really want to make it up to me, you should be a good friend and rub my shoulders. You did a real number on them when you pushed me away yesterday.” She paused. “Oh, and for the record? You’re a _total_ spaz.”

Will blinked, wondering how he’d suddenly found himself sucked into such a fantastical scenario. Despite the warning bells going off inside his head, he hesitantly approached her and stood behind the chair.

“Good boy,” Abigail teased. Now brushing her hair forward, she sat up straight and cleared her throat. “Well? Are you going to get to rubbing, or what? I wasn’t joking when I said I was sore.”

“I…sorry.” Uncertain, Will lightly placed his hands on her shoulders and closed his eyes. Where his thumbs traced along her bare skin, he felt as if he were being burned.

Abigail sighed. Leaning her head forward, she gave a soft moan that sent an unexpected jolt straight to his groin.

Will clenched his teeth. As he continued to knead Abigail’s sore muscles, her head lolled from side to side in contentment. After he rubbed at a particularly tense knot, he heard her suck in a breath and whimper. It sounded…suspiciously erotic.

Feeling his boxers grow unbearably tight, Will suppressed a groan and fought against the urge to press a kiss behind her ear. Worse yet, he could now imagine her writhing beneath him, moaning in that same way as he furiously drove into her welcoming body.

Emboldened by his unspoken desires, Will tucked his fingers beneath Abigail’s scarf and stroked along her neck. She jerked away from him in shock.

Clapping a hand over her scar, she lurched up from her chair and began to frantically re-tie the loosened garment.

Will swallowed. Had he repulsed her by taking things too far?

Before he could even think to apologize, Abigail was already heading toward her bedroom. “I…I think I need a nap,” she stammered.

He moved to speak, but it was too late. Abigail had already slammed the door in his face.

Embarrassed and still aroused, Will decided that while his guest was doing God only knows what, he’d go into the safety of his bathroom and take a long, cold shower.

 

* * *

 

After Will had disrobed, he stood in front of his bathroom sink and peered into the mirror. His pale, drawn reflection gazed languidly back at him, his heart thrumming wildly once he realized how frightening he looked. Oh, God…was he finally turning into the monster he knew himself to be?

Quivering, he ran a hand along his stubbled cheek and studied his eyes. There was a raw, cold mania about them – something he often saw in the very perps he tracked.

He staggered back as though he’d been pushed. He was a monster… _ohgodohgodohgod._

The bathroom door clicked in that moment, and Will tensed when he suddenly found himself gazing eye-to-eye with Abigail Hobbs. Her mouth formed a small ‘o.’ Naked and trembling, he felt her eyes raking over his body with interest, especially when the heat pooling between his thighs became painfully obvious.

“I’m sorry, I…I didn’t know you were in here…” Her voice was notably distracted.

Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Will panted as he struggled to find something intelligent to say. The way her eyes violated him without any concern for propriety thrilled him, and when her tongue peeked out to wet her lips, he honestly thought he was going to lose it.

Abigail moved as though she was going to step toward him, but Will panicked and dove into the security of the shower. “Please close the door,” he called. His hands shook as he turned on the water.

The sound of the door swinging shut reached his ears, and he sighed in relief when he realized she’d obeyed his request. He was safe – _she_ was safe.

Allowing the water to pelt him relentlessly from the front, Will submerged his face and shook his head as water droplets clung to his cheeks. He rubbed at his stinging eyes.

As he continued to stand beneath the shower head, he only came back to awareness when soft, careful footsteps creaked across the floor. He heard the _whish_ of the shower curtain soon after.

“What are you…?”

Abigail cut him off, her arms wrapping around his waist as she rested her cheek against his back. “I don’t want to be alone right now,” she whispered.

Feeling her taut, clothed nipples pressing into his skin, Will closed his eyes and braced himself against the tile wall. “You shouldn’t be here,” he warned, his voice hoarse. “This is…this is _highly_ inappropriate.” Her feather-light touch ghosted along his stomach and he groaned.

He could feel her smiling against his shoulder. “It’s sweet of you to care about my reputation and all, but it’s too late for me. I know what I’m doing.”

 _‘Did she?’_ he wondered. _‘Did she_ **really**?’ Getting involved with a man such as himself was dangerous, but at the moment he didn’t have the heart, nor the strength to tell her to leave. He wanted – no, he _needed_ her there. He needed to know someone believed he was normal. Hell, _he_ needed to believe it, too.

Abigail tugged on Will’s arm and he slowly turned around. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, she touched his cheek and leaned her face against the crook of his neck. “Let me stay,” she begged. “You’ve already taken so much away from me, so please…it’s the least you could do.”

Will felt sick. Was she was actually using her father’s death as a _bargaining chip?_ The clever bitch knew he could never deny a request like that.

“He would’ve killed you,” he weakly insisted. “What other choice did I have?”

Abigail’s eyes were wild. “You could’ve let me die,” she fired back. “But you’re too good for that, aren’t you? I never even had a choice.”

Will gripped her arms then, angrily forcing her to return his gaze. “Never say that again,” he hissed. “You can’t honestly say you’d rather be dead, can you?”

Her smile was hollow. “Will, I’ve been dead for years now…I’ve never really served a purpose except to…well…” Unable to form the right words, she quickly amended, “Nobody’s ever really needed me before…or at least, not like this. Not like with you.”

Will flinched. What the hell did she know about his needs? Aside from the rushed kiss at Lecter’s office, was he far more transparent than he liked to believe?

Finally, he settled on a strained, “Don’t talk like that…you’re too young to know anything about what’s going on.”

Abigail gave a dry, incredulous laugh, genuine fury burning behind her blue eyes. “Oh, _really?”_ she snarled. “I’ve been forced to see and do things that most people will _never_ have to, so excuse _me_ if I think I know a thing or two about how the world really works! So yeah, I get that you’re trying to protect me and all, but guess what? It’s _you_ I want, Will. You understand the pain I feel…you _know_ what it’s like to hurt this way. Hannibal said that you can empathize, and that-”

“It’s not right,” Will furiously cut in. “I don’t care _what_ he said, because it’s _not_ right!”

“Then why did you k-?”

“I don’t _know_ why I kissed you, ok?! I just did!”

Abigail’s chin quivered, the hurt in her eyes stabbing through his heart like a steel-tipped harpoon. “You don’t mean that,” she softly said. “If you didn’t want me at all, you never would’ve kissed me…you wouldn’t have sought me out.”

Will felt as if he were drowning. “You’re just confused…we _both_ are.” Catching her hands in his, he cradled them against his chest and gave her a pleading look with his eyes. “Just don’t do this, ok? If you keep this up, I…I might not be able to control myself.”

Abigail’s breath hitched at these words. “Then…I hope you won’t.”

Will appeared to be considerably taken aback by her response, his hands trembling as he choked out, “I… _what?”_

“I hope you won’t be able to control yourself.” Moving her hands to his shoulders, she gazed up into his confused eyes and studied the expressions warring across his face. He was clearly fighting with himself over what was right and _morally_ right.

Feeling her hands cup his cheeks, Will closed his eyes and traitorously leaned into Abigail’s touch. She stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. Sliding her lips down the bridge of his nose, she then pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, her tongue laving the spot as his chin quivered.

“Touch me back,” she pleaded. Unfastening the first four buttons of her wet blouse, she grabbed his hand and placed it over her rapidly beating heart. It throbbed a staccato pattern of desire into his palm.

That did it – he finally had proof that Abigail yearned for him as much as he yearned for her. With their hearts pounding in sync with the same urgency, he knew he didn’t have to worry about the consequences. They were one in the same, and he’d never find anyone who understood him this way again – _ever._

Almost feral, Will shoved Abigail against the tile wall and heard her cry out, his lips and tongue latching onto her pulse point as he felt the need throb beneath his mouth. _She was his. She was his. She was his._

Bunching her skirt in his hands, Will lifted the garment over her hips and panted against her wet scarf. Abigail said his name, soft and faint, while her tone held the sweet reverence of a prayer. It made him hunger for her all the more.

Desperate, he tore at her blouse until the buttons popped free. Abigail whimpered and urged him forward, her legs wrapping around his waist as he crashed his mouth against hers. Tongues battling for dominance, Will moaned into the heated kiss and began to swiftly, urgently grind himself between her thighs. Abigail wasn’t even wearing panties.

Quivering, he nibbled on Abigail’s ear and slipped a hand between her legs, his fingers probing into her tight space as she whined and jerked her hips in time with his administrations. She was his…oh God, she was finally _his._

Head tilting back, Abigail rode his fingers and yelped when he grazed her sensitive bundle of nerves. Entranced by her erotic expressions, Will licked her neck and did it yet again, his hand driving strongly between her thighs as she screamed and shook from the building pleasure.

“Will, please,” she choked, yet he withdrew before she could come undone. Abigail shuddered from the loss of contact.

Groping blindly between them, she seized Will between the legs and stroked his sensitive skin. “I want it,” she begged, tilting her hips into his. “Please, Will…”

Their blazing eyes met in a moment of clouded lust, and Will gave a stifled cry before driving sharply into her heat. Abigail gasped and bowed forward, her nails digging into his shoulders once his hips began to move. The force of his thrusts caused her back to slap repeatedly against the wall.

Breasts bouncing, Abigail trembled and arched into their point of union, her toes curling as she did her best to ride the wild, frantic jerk of his hips.

Will closed his eyes. She was so warm and _tight,_ and the soft, gentle touch of her lips on his throat was driving him mad. When he gave an exceptionally delicious thrust, he heard her squeal and she clung to his strong frame out of desperation.

Placing his hands flat against the wall to brace himself, Will sighed into Abigail’s open mouth as she sought his lips with hers. The kiss was wanton and frantic, both gasping for air as they licked, bit, and groped at one another within their high intensity of need. He growled at her, nails digging into her thighs as he met her tongue with his, feeding his addiction and growing it. She was never going to be enough – never going to fill this need in him for her . . . oh, _fuck,_ he needed this so badly.

Will slid down to his knees just before they gave out, resting Abigail on the lip of the tub and grabbing her hair, pulling as he kissed her. He groaned into the kiss and erratically jerked inside her, shuddering violently as he came.

Abigail whined and tried to keep him in place as he pulled out, but Will thrust his face and tongue between her legs, licking and sucking with a hunger that surprised even him. He needed all of her – every last delicious _drop_ of her.

Abigail gripped his hair and rolled her hips up toward his awaiting mouth, her moans turning into soft, feverish pants as she twisted her body with the hopes of him granting her release. The agent wasn’t trying to take his time, but he wasn’t necessarily in a rush, either; he wanted to enjoy the taste of his conquest, rubbing his rough cheeks against her thighs and breathing in the heady scent of her. She screamed his name as she came, and it was _him_ she wanted. _Him!_

Will pulled Abigail back into the tub once he’d had his fill of her, wrapping his arms and legs around her body as the hot water pounded down upon them. By now they were both gasping for breath.

He was . . . he wasn’t _empty_ anymore, but Will couldn’t quite place what had filled him, and this unnerved him horribly. Abigail’s small, gentle hands began to explore the flat planes of his torso and he closed his eyes. His skin was burning again; burning at her touch and he tensed his fists at his sides, trying to distract himself from the electricity he couldn’t pull away from.

Abigail, however, was not willing to be ignored. She still wanted to be held – she still _needed_ the validation. With her free hand bracing herself, she eased her body so that she was hovering over Will’s newly erect arousal. Giving him a dusky look with her eyes, she slowly lowered herself so that only his tip entered her slick heat, her teeth biting into her lip as she forced herself to abruptly withdraw. Knees quivering, she did it yet again, her face flushing as she fought not to sink directly down to the hilt. She wanted to see if she affected him as much as he affected her. With breathless curiosity, she looked down at Will’s face for a reaction.

He was gripping her waist tight enough to leave bruises, all the while trying to force her onto him as he bit back gasp after gasp. She was a fucking tease and he hated her for it; hated that his body needed her touch, and _needed_ this torment.

Will pushed himself up until he was sitting, pulling desperately down on her hips. His teeth and tongue were now on her breasts and mimicking his earlier movements between her legs. He gasped against her slick skin.

No longer willing to fight him, Abigail fisted his hair and allowed her body to sink fully down his length, a pleased hiss escaping her lips once she felt him fill her to completion. Rolling her hips forward, she took Will by the chin and crashed his mouth against her own, her tongue plundering past his lips as she fanned her fingers out across his face.

Will cried out into her mouth as he came, her feather-light touches being just what he’d needed to send him over the edge. He crushed Abigail against him, running his hands from her rump to her shoulders and holding her like a normal man would hold a woman.

Abigail tried to slow the soft, excited pants of her breathing. With her hand cupping his cheek, her body relaxed into his embrace as the soothing water continued to beat upon their bodies.

“I…thank you,” she whispered. As Will gazed down at her in confusion, he couldn’t tell if the liquid on her cheeks was tears or bathwater.

Tucking her wet head beneath his chin, he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms securely around her shoulders. For one blissful moment it was just the two of them. No horrors or death – nothing. All that remained was warmth, safety, and _calm._ That was why he sought her out, Will realized. Abigail made the nightmares go away.

Almost seeming to read his mind, Abigail turned further into his embrace and snuggled against his chest. With her arm curling between them, she found his hand and interlocked their fingers.

 

* * *

 

A long, high-pitched scream caused Will to jerk awake, his limbs flailing as he tried his best to regain his bearings. Warm bed…middle of the night…Abigail Hobbs. _Abigail?_

Feeling yet another shriek rip through him like a blade, Will rolled over and instinctively gathered the sleeping girl into his arms. “Abby? _Abigail?_ Wake up!” he shouted. Lightly patting her face, his gaze grew panicked when she continued to sob and thrash about in his grasp. “Hey, c’mon,” he pleaded. “Look at me!”

With a sharp intake of breath, Abigail’s chest lurched upward as her eyes flew open. Her gaze seemed unseeing at first, but after a moment her expression softened with recognition. “Will!” she sobbed. Launching herself into his arms, she buried her face against the crook of his neck and wept bitterly. “I keep dreaming about my dad,” she choked out. “Every night, it’s always the same thing…”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Will gently assured her. Despite his better judgment, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss against her forehead and cupped her wet cheeks, stroking them. Abigail quivered in his embrace.

Coaxing her into lying back down, Will turned Abigail’s body so that her backside was pressed snugly against his front, his arms threading around her waist as he rested his lips against her shoulder. As he did so, he felt Abigail’s shaking hands come over his and squeeze. Her voice was soft and full of defeat as she whispered, “I’ll never be normal.”

Will’s eyelids fluttered. Though he wasn’t a man who cried, he couldn’t keep the emotion from his voice as he whispered a strained, “Neither will I.”


	4. Take It All Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail gives a startling confession. Dark subject matter/mild sexual content warning.

Will awoke the next morning to the loud, crackly sound of his old record player. Abigail was standing in the corner of the room, holding onto an album cover as she switched her hips back and forth. It didn't take long for him to realize she was wearing his shirt. The grey cotton ended just below the curve of her rump, and Will's eyes opened more fully to take her in.

"Abigail," he wearily croaked, "what are you doing? It's...it's..." He checked his clock and grimaced. "...too _early."_

With a grin, Abigail spun around and held up one of his albums. "I wanted to find some good music, but it looks like you're still stuck in the Stone Age. I mean, seriously, Will? The _Doors?_ No wonder you live in constant gloom and doom! You need something other than all this grandpa music!"

Will yawned. "Yeah, well it's from my generation... I don't plan on taking advice from a kid."

"I am _not_ a kid – I'm seventeen!"

"I stand corrected," he grumbled. In truth, their conversation was beginning to deeply disturb him. He'd just spent a night of passion with an underage girl – and he'd _repeatedly_ broken the law, at that – so he didn't want to be reminded of his discrepancies with her taste in music.

Suddenly leaping onto the bed, Abigail crawled up to him and poked his shoulder. "What are we going to do today? As much as I love harassing you, that can only be exciting for so long.”

Will groaned and attempted to pull the covers over his head, but Abigail thwarted him with her nimble hands. "Oh, c'mon! Why are you being such a baby?"

"Back off." Squirming away from her prodding fingers, Will felt the heat rise in his cheeks when she laughed and attempted to get closer. The distance between his maturity and hers unnerved him. Though Abigail was almost an adult, her child-like behavior was making him sick with guilt. He never should've touched her.

"Wow, is that what I _think_ it is?"

Snapping to attention, Will balked when he realized Abigail was pointing toward his tented arousal. He hadn't even been aware of his physical state. Embarrassed, he tried to turn back over, but Abigail laughed and stopped him with her hands.

"Man, I didn't even think men your age still _had_ morning wood! This is adorable!"

"I am _not_ that old," Will growled, shoving her away from him. "And stop touching me, goddammit! I'm trying to sleep!"

"With that stiffy between your legs? Yeah, _right!"_

"Cut it out!"

Laughing, Abigail sat up and rolled her eyes. "God, you're such a prude! Get a grip, would you?" She gave him a simpering smile. "Oh, wait...that's not a very good choice of words, is it?"

"Get out of here!"

Trying her best to hide her laughter, Abigail placed a condescending kiss on Will's forehead before turning to leave. In truth, she was feeling pretty damn good about herself, because she'd been thinking nobody would ever want her again. She was too damaged. And even though Will was acting like a big baby about it, she'd honestly been expecting as much; the morning after was _always_ awkward. She knew he'd come around eventually.

As Abigail left the room, Will took a firm grip on himself and prepared to manually make his desires go away. There was no chance in _hell_ that he'd turn to Abigail ever again – he couldn't.

 

 

* * *

When Will emerged from his room, freshly showered and dressed, he stared at Abigail standing amongst his dogs. One of them stuck its wet nose beneath her shirt and pressed it to her bare skin, causing her to shriek and pull the cloth back down over her rump.

Before Will could even stop himself, he was laughing at the spectacle.

Abigail spun around and scowled. "Oh, so _that_ you'll laugh for? Thanks a lot, you jerk!"

Barely able to hide his smile, Will approached the motley crew and stroked the offending dog behind the ears. "He just likes you, that's all. With dogs, you have to remember that ass-sniffing is the best form of flattery."

"Shut up."

Grinning more openly now, a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest and Abigail observed him.

"It really suits you."

"What does?"

"A _smile,_ of course – it's a great thing to see." Mirroring his mirth, Abigail moved forward and went to kiss him, but Will drew back as though she had the plague. She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just-"

"Oh, back to the whole 'nothing' bullshit, huh? If you just wanted to fuck around with no strings attached, all you had to do was say so." Her tone was biting and cold.

"Abby..."

 _“_ No, I get it… If you bang teenage girls for fun, who am I to judge? It's not like I'm Little Miss Perfect.”

Will winced. “Abby, I'm sorry... Really. I'm kind of screwed up right now, and I'm just not sure how to feel."

Abigail smiled again, her hand grasping his as she leaned against his chest. "Well for starters, you should totally let me live with you. That way I won't have to keep jumping the hospital’s wall to come visit."

Will sucked in a breath, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "I...I don't think that would work."

"Well why not?"

"You _know_ why."

Abigail's smile was guileful, yet the way she cupped his cheeks was completely tender. "I get it – really, I do, but nobody ever has to find out."

"You can't promise they won't."

"True," she agreed, "but do you promise you'll at least think about it?"

Will bowed his forehead against hers. "Yeah...I'll think about it."

And even as he uttered these fateful words, he felt as though he were leading himself to the proverbial gallows. Abigail Hobbs would surely be his undoing.

 

 

* * *

When Will heard Dr. Lecter sniffing the air, he bristled and turned around in disgust. "I promise you, I made sure to change my after shave this time."

"Indeed, you have," Lecter agreed, "though that is not the delightful scent that piques my interest. Its bouquet is far more... _youthful_ in its splendor."

Will's mouth went dry. "What are you getting at?"

"Abigail Hobbs," Lecter said simply. "Could it be that you’ve finally listened to your heart’s desires?"

"Listen, you twisted son of a bitch, if you think for one _minute_ that I touched my own ward, I-"

Lecter raised a hand, indicating silence. "I merely wanted to verify my suspicions, and judging by your volatile response, I would say I at the very least guessed part of your torment correctly."

Will's tough facade crumbled. “You’re right, I…I’m sorry.” Miserably sinking down into a chair, he weakly confessed, "I let Abigail stay with me last night. She was lonely and scared, so I let her share my bed. We..."

"Succumbed?"

His eyes shot up to look at Lecter's, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as he searched their depths for repugnance. When he found none, Will bowed his head and choked out a raspy, "Yes."

"I see. And this troubles you?"

"Yes, Dr. Lecter...very much."

"And why do you think that is? For many years, age was but a number – your forefathers never worried about romancing the taboo, so why should we?"

Will's smile was grim. "Though I see your point, I hate to remind you that times have changed. I could get arrested for seeing Abigail."

"Then why do you?"

Will exhaled, shrugging as he wedged his hands between his knees. "I don't know, she just . . . changed something in me." Wetting his lips, he cupped his chin in his palm and shook his head. "I can't really explain it, but every time we're together, all of my nightmares just disappear. I don't _see_ things when I'm with her."

Lecter pursed his lips. "It seems that you have developed quite a crutch, Mr. Graham. But in all fairness, I believe Abigail views you as a crutch, as well."

"You do?"

"But of course – all of the classic signs are present. If she did not view you as some sort of romantic hero, you never would have gotten her to take comfort in your arms. In the end, you are both seeking the same goal: complete and utter peace of mind."

Will stared back at Lecter, his expression an amalgam of horror and awe. "I...I think you might be right."

Though the doctor's smile was indulgent, it was clear that he wouldn't have expected anything less. Retrieving his pocket watch, he dryly announced, "I am afraid that this is it for us today. I have a guest that I need to prepare for, so I will return shortly."

"Abigail Hobbs?"

Lecter cleared his throat, thus indicating an obvious dismissal. "Will you please excuse me?"

When the agent nodded and rose from his perch, Lecter indicated that he'd be right back before disappearing into the hall. Not long after, Abigail Hobbs entered the room with a bright smile.

"Hey, Will! I didn't know you were unburdening your daily dose of crazy, too." Bounding over to him with an airiness to her step, she grabbed his arms and kissed his cheek. He blanched at the brazen display of affection.

Careful to keep his voice in check, Will sternly bit out, "You shouldn't do that here... Lecter said he'd be back soon."

Seeming to ignore him, Abigail hoisted herself up onto Lecter's desk with a sultry smile. After she'd kicked off her shoes, she ran her bare foot along Will's thigh and arched her back, pronouncing her modest breasts beneath her sweater. He clenched his teeth when she stroked his groin.

"Abby, _stop."_

"Why?" she shot back. "You didn’t seem to dislike my touch last night…” Taking him by the arms, she urged him forward and placed his hands on her hips. "C'mon, Will...touch me. Don't you want to?"

"No..."

 _"Please?"_ She reached between them and massaged his growing hardness.

Will pressed his forehead to hers and gasped for breath, her legs squeezing his waist as she tried to coax him in closer. "Go on," she breathlessly urged. "Nobody's looking..."

Brushing his lips along her chin, Will made a muffled sound of approval when Abigail unbuckled the belt to his pants. She kissed and nipped his neck as he moved between her thighs. _MoreMoreInsideMore._ He lifted her by the hips, then froze to the spot right when a shrill, feminine shriek kept him from completing his task.

Gracelessly staggering away from Abigail, Will tried to refasten his pants as Alana Bloom entered his line of vision. Oh, shit...

Silence engulfed the room then, but the rage simmering beneath the doctor’s chilled demeanor was palpable.

Swallowing back bile, Will raised his hands in a supplicating gesture and pitifully entreated, "Lonnie, I can explain..."

Alana wasn't interested in his excuses. Turning to Abigail, she asked as calmly as she could muster, "Abby, could you please leave us alone for a minute?"

"Oh, but-"

_"GO!"_

Startled, Abigail sent Will a frantic look before reluctantly doing as she was told. Will Graham and Alana Bloom were now the only ones in the vicinity.

The moment Will opened his mouth to talk, the words were silenced when Alana smacked him soundly across the cheek.

"How dare you?" she hissed. "How _dare_ you take advantage of that confused, vulnerable girl?! You _know_ she’s not in a sound frame of mind, but you let her use you anyway!” Tears filled her eyes as she struggled to regain control. Curling and uncurling her fists at her sides, Alana heaved a breath and spat, "This is _beyond_ unethical – this violates every oath you ever took for the Academy!"

Will could no longer remain silent. "Don't you think I know that? Do you actually think I _want_ to be this way?!"

"Christ, Will, she's just a _child!"_

A child... Will felt his insides curdle.

Seeing the hurt and confusion warring behind his eyes, Alana finally managed to put a temporary lid on her temper. Coaxing him into returning her gaze, she swallowed and choked out, "Will, what you've got inside you – this whole terrible, monstrous thing . . . it's not normal. Surely you must realize that."

Will's lips quirked up into a tremulous smile. "Seriously? I get into the minds of crooks for a living, yet you're suggesting I ever _could_ be normal? It's way too late for that. I will never, _ever_ be the same."

Alana's eyes were tragic. "Will, I just want to help...for both your sakes."

"Yeah? Well you can start by backing off and minding your own damn business."

"You _know_ I can't do that."

"Well why the hell not, huh? You're not my doctor!"

Alana was livid. "Maybe so, but Dr. Lecter's obviously not giving you the help you need. Pedophilia is-"

"I am _not_ a pedophile! Abigail's almost eighteen!"

Alana struck him across the face again, but this time the blow was far more painful than the last. His nerves were on fire from where she'd slapped him.

"Would you just _listen_ to yourself?" she hissed. "Do you mean to tell me that if a perp were sexually abusing a seventeen-year-old, you wouldn't book and charge him with pedophilia-related crimes?"

Will swallowed. "It's...consensual."

"So _what?"_ She moved to hit him again, but this time he caught her by the wrist. She started in surprise once she realized they were gazing eye-to-eye.

"‘So what?’" Will coldly echoed. "Well I'll tell you 'so fucking what,' Lonnie: ever since I've connected with that girl, I've been able to breathe again. I haven't seen this clearly in a long, _long_ time, and I don’t want to lose that."

Alana cringed. "Oh, Will...what are we going to do?"

"I...I don't know," he whispered. For the first time he appeared lost, and Alana had to resist the urge to comfort him.

Instead, she settled on a stern, "I won't report you . . . for now. I'll try and find you some proper counseling, but in the meantime I expect you to stay as far away from Abigail Hobbs as possible. If I catch you even _looking_ her way, I'll tell Jack and call the police."

Will exhaled. He wanted to tell her to go ahead and do it – that he was a monster who couldn't be stopped – but his selfishness and need for Abigail overruled his morals. "Alright," he feebly lied, "I'll do everything you ask. Believe me, I don't want to be this way any more than you do."

Alana gave a tearful smile and squeezed his arm. "Don't worry, Will, we'll get through this . . . together."

Before he could even think to speak, Lecter was back in the room with Abigail in tow. "Hello, Alana...Will," he greeted. His tone seemed smug as he placed a hand on Abigail's shoulder. "I hate to be rude, but you are both cutting into my time with Miss Hobbs. Would you mind excusing us, please?"

"Yeah, sure," Will softly agreed, his eyes never leaving Abigail's. "No problem."

Pushing ahead of Alana, he tore out of the room as though he had fire crackers in his pants. He didn't breathe normally again until he'd reached the safety of the parking lot.

 

 

* * *

Several hours later, Will had been dragged back to Quantico to review the latest stats on the Van Gogh murders. But, as always, his mind wasn't in the best of places.

He kept nodding in and out of Beverly's analyses, his hand passing over his mouth as he pretended to contemplate her commentary. Beverly didn't fall for this for very long. He jerked upright when she cleared her throat.

"Seriously, Graham? This is the _fifth_ time I've tried getting your attention." Though Beverly was often sarcastic and light, there was something troubled about her tone. Did she know? Had Alana told her?

"I'm sorry," he feebly apologized, "I'm just...distracted."

"Yeah? You wanna talk about it?"

Beverly was easily the type of person Will could've let past his barrier, had he ever given her the chance. Of all the people he worked with, she was the only one who could make him smile on a regular basis. She was the only one who treated him like a _person_ instead of a sideshow freak. Because of this, he knew he could never risk having her view him differently. It could very well kill him.

"Helloooo, anybody in there? Please tell me your brain's not running on autopilot again."

Will cracked a weak smile. "I think what I need is some time off for a bit...think Jack will ever go for that?"

"Um, that'd be a negative," Beverly said. "Though Crawford would let you leave, I'm beginning to think he's forgotten how to do this stuff without you."

"I'm going to tell him you said that."

"Like hell you are!"

Chuckling, Will gathered up his coat and agreed, "You're right, I won't – for now. Thanks for the pick-me-up, by the way."

Beverly's stern gaze relaxed. "Sure thing, Champ . . . and Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever's bothering you, don't let anyone tell you how to feel, ok? I know you've constantly got Crawford, Bloom, and Lecter telling you what to do, so for once why don't you do what _you_ feel is right?"

The look in Will's eyes softened. "Thanks...that's some really good advice."

"Isn't it, though? I read it on a bumper sticker." She grinned and waved him off. "Go on, get out of here – you and your bed need some serious quality time together."

After Will said his goodbyes, he walked out of the building with an actual smile on his face. Beverly was right. It was time for him to do what he wanted without fearing the consequences.

 

 

* * *

"C'mon, Abby, we're leaving."

Abigail slowly raised herself off her bed, blinking as Will came barreling into her room. "Um...going _where,_ exactly?"

"Don't worry about it – just get your things. I told the orderlies that Dr. Bloom wants to take you on a brief vacation."

Despite her confusion, Abigail couldn't help but grin. "Wow, breaking bad at last, are we? Dr. Bloom is going to be _so_ pissed." She shrugged and said, "I mean, she totally caught us...I'm surprised she even let you leave the building."

"She almost didn't," Will agreed, "but I managed to buy us some time."

Now getting off her bed, Abigail began throwing her clothes into a duffel bag as Will moved to assist her. "You know," she blithely began, "this kind of feels like Bonnie and Clyde, minus all the bank-robbing and murder. Pretty cool, huh?"

"That's not the word I'd use to describe it, but I'm glad you're coming with me." Will found he couldn't look her in the eye when he said this. Sentimentality always embarrassed him.

Fortunately for Will, Abigail was far too busy packing to pay him much attention. After a moment she zipped up the bag and said, "There! That should be good enough. These jerks didn't let me bring all that much to begin with, anyway."

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Abigail followed Will out into the sterile-smelling hallway. Her voice was small as she asked, "Are you in trouble? Is anyone coming after us?"

Will exhaled. "No, not yet – we've got a good head-start on them. Bloom said she'd give me a week to end this...this _thing_ between us, but we'll be long gone by then."

Abigail's brow furrowed. "Why are you doing this, anyway? I mean, why risk everything for something that probably won't even last?"

Will's smile was distant. "I've already lost everything, Abby. At the very least, I just want a little peace of mind before everything turns to shit."

Abigail paused, her head bowing as she shyly hooked her fingers through his. "Then I won't leave you," she promised. "We can both be fucked up together."

If Will hadn't been so troubled, he would have smiled.

 

 

* * *

Will and Abigail had been driving for about an hour, and neither of them had any clue where they were going. Lecter had been left a note to take care of Will's dogs, but that was the only indication of how long he planned on staying away from Wolf Trap. Both passengers were now brooding.

Trying to distract himself, Will opened and closed his hands around the steering wheel. He knew what he wanted to say – or in this case apologize – but he was finding it very difficult to do so. He cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse when he finally choked out, "Abby, I want you to know that...that I'm really sorry for stealing your first time. You should've been with some other kid, but...well...you weren't, and that was completely selfish of me."

Abigail startled him with a loud and grating laugh. "Are you _joking?_ Will, you are _so_ not my first."

"B-but you were so..."

 _"Tight?_ Yeah. That's 'cause mom finally got suspicious, so dad stopped touching me for a while. It didn't last very long, though."

Will felt sick to his stomach. Though he'd experienced all sorts of horrors over the years, this particular confession struck him like a low blow.

"You're lying," he whispered. His tone was pleading with her – begging for it all to be untrue.

"Why the fuck would I lie about something like that?" Abigail's tone was livid, but her gaze softened when she saw the turmoil on Will's face. Taking a deep breath, she looked away and shook her head. "He said nobody would ever love me but him, and . . . I believed him. Until now." She reached over and touched Will's hand, but he fiercely jerked away from her, both appalled and ashamed at what he was hearing.

Abigail sniffed. "Please, Will...now that you know, _please_ don't turn me away. Don't prove that my dad was right about me."

Will felt nauseous. It was difficult to _breathe._ With the ugly truth in sight, it now made sense why Abigail was so eager to find refuge in his arms. This wasn't new to her – she was _used_ to men taking advantage of her body. It had never occurred to him that she was behaving this way out of habit. As an investigative consultant, he of all people should've been able to read the signs.

Feeling Abigail's hand brush against his arm, Will jerked upright and trembled as his mind's eye pictured Hobbs with his daughter. He could see Garrett kissing Abigail's forehead and soothing her with words, promising how this would be the last time he'd ever ask her to lie with him.

 _"Hobbs spent a lot of time here . . . he spent a lot of time with his **daughter**_ _here_ ," Crawford's words echoed tauntingly.

Will nearly dry-heaved. With his foot pressing down on the accelerator, he quivered as the trees began to whiz by them at an alarming rate. He could hear Abigail screaming, her hands patting his face and shoulders as she begged him to come back to her.

"Will," she sobbed, _"Will!_ Please slow down...you're _scaring_ me!"

Scaring her...

Will jolted, clenching his teeth as he pictured Abigail sobbing beneath her father. "No, daddy, please slow down...you're _scaring_ me!"

Sharply crying out, Will jerked the steering wheel and the car fish-tailed. Abigail shrieked as the tires squealed, the vehicle sending them lurching headlong into a ditch. Silence overcame them when the car stalled.

As Abigail sat there crying, Will wordlessly got out of the car and staggered up the grassy bank. He could hear her pleading with him to come back, but he ignored her. He couldn't face her right now.

When he was a decent distance from the car, Will finally stopped walking and closed his eyes. He trembled and shuddered, his head shaking as a tortured sob caught in his throat.

The car door slammed and he could hear footsteps coming toward him.

"Will? Will, please come back!"

Dropping down to his knees, Will doubled over and pressed his forehead against the cool earth. He could feel Abigail's small arms around him then, her damp cheek pressing against his back as he trembled.

"I'm sorry," he choked.

"It's ok," she whispered back. Stroking his wavy curls, she closed her eyes and said, "It started when I was really young...it was just touching at first, but I didn't think anything was wrong with it." She numbly blinked back tears. "In fact...I still kind of don't, if I'm being perfectly honest."

Will finally raised his head, now regarding her with pained blue eyes. Abigail reached out and cupped his face, wiping the moisture from his cheeks before pressing her forehead to his. He hadn't even realized he'd been crying.

"Abby, I won't do this to you," he whispered. "I won't be your father..."

"Shh – you'll never be like him," she insisted. Her tone was gentle and reassuring.

"I won't," he said again, "I _won't."_

"I know...please just stop talking. You're going to make yourself sick."

Will nodded and tried his best to quit shaking. He knew Abigail was right – what they had together was nothing like what she'd had with Hobbs. It _couldn't_ be.

Moistening her lips, Abigail framed Will's face and stroked along his scruffy cheeks, marveling at the amount of sadness she saw gazing back at her. Nobody had ever seemed to care about her this much before.

Trying her best not to cry, Abigail buried her face against his throat and tightly wound her arms around him. "I'm so glad you picked me," she whispered over and over again. "I'm so glad..."

It was true. She _was_ glad, and she hadn't realized how much she'd needed him until this very moment.

Shuddering, Will gripped her small frame and pressed his cheek against her hair. She smelled like vanilla and cotton. Sliding his hands from her back to her shoulders, he grazed his lips against her forehead as she clung to him, feeling her squeeze his waist with a needy desperation.

"Abby..."

"Shh."

Pulling away to look into her eyes, Will wrinkled his brow when she stroked his cheeks. Then her lips were suddenly on his, soft and gentle and warm.

Clutching at her waist, he made a small noise when her mouth slipped off his. His head was spinning.

Emboldened by this response, she urged herself against him again, but this time he didn't stop her. With his mouth slightly agape, Will felt her lips glide against his with an almost modest hesitation. He gripped her elbows.

"Abby, _stop."_

She looked up at him in confusion. "Why?"

"You _know_ why – I can't do this to you."

With her face contorting in frustration, Abigail gave a high-pitched shriek and shoved him. "You asshole!" she cried. "You...you _bastard!_ You know I need this – you know I need _you!"_

"Get in the car, Abby."

_"No!"_

_"Get_ in the goddamn _car!"_

Catching her pummeling fists, Will managed to sling the girl over his shoulder as she kicked and screamed. Though he was still shaking from their exchange, he somehow managed to get Abigail inside the car and hook her into her seat.

"You ok?"

She fiercely spat in his face in reply, punching his shoulder as she wailed, "I need you, Will – you _know_ I need you to feel safe! I don't think about bad things when we screw around..."

"I know," Will whispered. "It's the same for me."

"Then take off your pants, you prick!" She reached for his buckle, but he stopped her.

"Abby, don't..."

Dropping her head against his chest, she began to sob uncontrollably. He cradled her against him, closing his eyes as he stroked her hair. "Things are changing now, ok? Our lives are going to be very different."

Abigail shuddered, now curling weakly against him. "You promise?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

They embraced more tightly. Now that they finally knew what they desired, nothing else seemed to matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, I don't actually think Garrett Jacob Hobbs raped his daughter. When Will said he wasn't "loving" his victims in that way, I definitely think the same applies to Abigail. It’s just a fan theory that I wanted to explore, so that’s really the only backing behind it.
> 
> Also, "Lonnie" is a nickname for Alana, so I hope that didn't throw anyone off.


	5. Like a Flame, Burning Brightly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content warning.
> 
> Will and Abigail's activities come to light.

By the time they actually reached a motel, it was well into the wee hours of the morning. Will looked over at his sleeping companion, who was curled up on her side of the car and breathing deeply. His stomach roiled. Insomnia coupled with Abigail's sobering confession was making him ill.

After taking two Di-Gels, he leaned over and roused the girl from her slumber. "Abby...hey, Abby..."

"Hmm?" Her lashes fluttered sleepily.

"I finally found us a place to rest – think you can get up?"

Abigail wearily rose and she blinked, her head bowing over as if it weighed a ton. She gave a noncommittal utterance.

Taking this as a 'yes,' Will helped her out of the car and led her toward the motel office. Inside was a squat, rodent-like man with bifocals perched on the bridge of his nose. Though he was poring over some Tom Clancy novel, he managed to put it aside when he realized he had customers. "Ah, good morning!" he cried. "I take it you and your sister would like a room?"

 _Sister?_   Well...at least he hadn't thought she was his daughter. With a weak smile, Will nodded and agreed, "Yeah, but just for a little while. We want to get back on the road again after we've rested."

"In a rush, eh? I don't blame you. The worst part about traveling is being in the car."

Will didn't answer. He was far too busy watching Abigail, studying her movements as she inspected the pictures on the far wall. After he'd paid for the room and gotten their key, he came up to her and cleared his throat. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," she softly agreed, "I guess so." He realized she was admiring a loving, cozy portrait of the clerk and his family.

Alarmed, Will took her by the elbow and steered her toward the exit. "You ok?"

As they were greeted by the chilled morning air, Abigail released a breath and nodded. "Yeah, sure – it's just . . . it's my birthday. Feels kind of weird not celebrating it with my family, you know?"

Will's gaze was incredulous. "Are you serious? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't seem important."

"How could it _not_ be important? You're only eighteen once." Though Will hadn't had a great journey into adulthood, he was determined to make Abigail's at least a _little_ enjoyable.

"Wait here," he urged. He was gone for a few minutes, then he returned with his hand stuffed in his coat pocket.

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing," he lied. Using his free hand, he jimmied the key into the lock of their motel room, then shoved the door open with the brunt of his shoulder. Sparse furniture and dismal wallpaper greeted their senses.

"Classy," Abigail joked. "Do you think the bed bugs are free of charge?"

"One can only hope," Will grumbled. Tossing the key onto the table, he turned back to her and urged, "Get on the bed and close your eyes. I have a surprise for you."

"Wow...should I be naked for this?"

 _"What?_ No, no, it's nothing like that – just do what I ask, alright?"

Abigail grinned and hopped onto the bed, covering her eyes as she crossed her legs Indian style. "Ok, now what?"

"Stay like that until I say otherwise."

Now turning his back to her, Will unearthed a packet of cupcakes he'd gotten from the vending machine and fished around for a match. Though most people used lighters nowadays, he was old-fashioned and preferred to do everything the way he did as a boy.

Abigail smiled when she heard the crinkling of plastic. "What the heck are you doing?"

"You'll see...just promise you won't peek."

"I'm not!"

Though her tone was defensive, Will could sense she was telling the truth. After finding a match, he came over to the bed and sat down beside her. "Alright...you can open your eyes now."

With a triumphant grin, Abigail removed her hands from her face and faltered, glancing down at the cupcake in confusion.

"Birthday cake," he shyly explained. His soft smile was infectious, and she couldn't help but laugh.

Will struck the match and stuck it flame-side up into the dessert. "Hurry, make a wish before it disintegrates."

Laughing again, Abigail quickly leaned over and blew out the match, and not a second too soon since it had nearly blackened the top of the cupcake.

In between their situation and the smoldering match, something about the scenario struck her as insanely funny. Unable to help herself, Abigail threw her head back and laughed and laughed, clutching at her sides as tears streamed down her cheeks. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or the fact that lately she'd been relying on mirth to erase her pain – but whatever the true reason, she wasn't in the mood to psychoanalyze herself.

Will gave a sheepish smile. "Uhh...does this mean you like it?" To his bewilderment, Abigail's laughter suddenly turned into violent sobs. "Hey," he urged, grasping her by the shoulders. "What's wrong, huh?"

Abigail sniffed and shook her head. "Nothing, I just...this is probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. Pretty fucking pathetic, right?"

Will frowned. "Why would I ever think that? It's not like my list of 'people doing nice things for me' is very long either, you know."

She huffed. "Yeah, right."

"People are afraid of me," Will insisted. "I represent the thin line between man and monster...of what can happen if someone's pushed too far."

Abigail looked up at him then, her heart throbbing once she detected the earnest sheen in his eyes. He was right – people _were_ afraid of him, and now they were afraid of her, too.

"You're not a monster to me," she whispered. She could sense how lonely he really was, and it hurt her heart. Setting the cupcake off to the side, she turned and held out her arms to him. "Sleep with me."

"What?"

"No...I mean _really_ sleep with me."

There was something gentle and tender in her voice, and it made Will regard her with caution. What had changed? Did she pity him?

"You don't have to do anything for me," he softly assured her. "Your being here is enough."

Abigail snorted. "Actually, I'm doing this for me – I _want_ to lie with you. Please, Will? You can make it my birthday present."

He felt her take his hands and he paused, staring down at their interlocked fingers with a whirlwind of emotions. This was the first time anyone wanted to befriend the man behind the gift – to _truly_ know him and love him, and this realization hurt very much.

Will's smile was tremulous as he made his decision. "Ok...sure."

Mirroring his smile, Abigail tucked her head beneath his chin and coaxed him into reclining. They soon became a tangle of arms and legs, their foreheads pressing together as a soft, bittersweet calm overcame the room.

Closing her eyes, Abigail placed a hand on Will's chest and sighed. She could feel his heart beating – a heart that many were convinced didn't actually exist. Though Will's baser instincts were always within reach, she knew he wasn't capable of becoming the monsters he tracked. Unlike them, he actually had love to ground him.

Love...did she really love him, she wondered? She'd loved her father – a possessive man who didn't deserve her affections – but it was easy to care for someone who put her on a pedestal. Will did all of this and more, but instead of wrongness, she felt warmth and safety in his arms. It was nice to feel like someone's equal for a change.

Tightening her hold around his waist, she heard him stir as he re-situated himself. "Will?"

"Hmm?"

"You're the bravest person I've ever met – just figured you might want to know that."

Will's eyes slowly opened and he blinked at her, a soft smile gracing his lips as he brushed the hair from her face. "The feeling's mutual," he murmured.

With a bright smile of her own, Abigail curled up beneath his chin and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. As far as she was concerned, this was the best birthday she'd ever had.

 

 

* * *

When Hannibal Lecter opened his office door, he was surprised to see Alana Bloom on the other side. "Forgive me, Doctor, but do we have an appointment?"

Her eyes darkened, their brilliant azure depths sparkling dangerously. "I think you know why I'm here."

"Indeed, I do not," he argued. Their agitated expressions deadlocked, then Lecter finally stepped aside and urged, "Come in. There is no need to state our business beyond closed doors."

"Thank you." Though Alana had been relatively polite, there was no warmth in her tone as she entered the proud, overly furnished office. "Guess who I talked to this morning."

Lecter came up behind her with a blank look. "Forgive me, but I do not have time for guessing games. It would save us both the effort if you'd just state what's on your mind."

"Very well," Alana agreed, "if that's how you want to play it." Folding her arms, she narrowed her eyes and announced, "Abigail's hospital called me this morning – apparently Will spirited her off into the night using _me_ as an alibi. Do you see what I'm getting at here?"

Lecter's lips twitched into a humorless smile. "I presume you're guessing that I, as his psychiatrist, have something to do with his sudden vacation?"

"Something like that, yes," Alana relented. "Why didn't you stop him?"

"It is not my job to tell Will what to do – I can only steer him in a certain direction. Ultimately, it is up to _him_ to see the error of his ways. That is the only way he will heal."

Alana's smile was incredulous. "Well, Doctor, it would seem that I'm going to have to disagree with you once again. You don't even seem bothered by this!"

"I must admit I am not," Lecter agreed. "According to my records, today is Abigail Hobbs' birthday – Will probably took her on a brief retreat to celebrate. It would've been cruel to leave her alone on a day like today."

Alana was immovable. "They're having an intimate affair – though I suppose you already knew this?"

"I will not deny my knowledge."

Exhaling through her nostrils, Alana looked sharply at him and asked, "Why didn't you call the police? And don't give me any of that doctor-patient confidentiality garbage, because you had a moral obligation to uphold. Grown men shouldn't be sleeping with vulnerable girls."

"To be fair, Will was vulnerable as well – they both sought the one person who could understand their turmoil."

"Oh, I get it - you're actually _defending_ this travesty."

"Indeed, I am not." Lecter's expression was passive, though his maroon eyes burned into hers with a slow intensity. She shivered.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I hope I may speak candidly, colleague to colleague."

"Of course you may."

"I think something lies much deeper within you...perhaps repressed feelings for Will?"

Alana immediately went on the defensive. "Oh, I see – so because I'm concerned for Abigail's well-being, that must mean I want her lover. Am I getting that right?"

"Your response tells me all that I need to know." Lecter smiled then, his eyes still on hers as he asked, "Would you care for a drink?"

"Why, so you can pump me for more information?"

"My dear Alana, I call that being a good host – you must forgive me if you received any other impression."

She exhaled, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Alright, fine...but only for a little while. I still need to take this information to Crawford."

"I will go with you," Lecter offered.

"That'd be great – he should hear both sides of the story." When the doctor returned with two flutes of alcohol, Alana finally cracked a smile and accepted her beverage. "Cheers."

 

 

* * *

The stench of death is what first roused Will from his slumber. Jerking awake, his chest heaved as his eyes darted back and forth to take in his surroundings. There was so much _blood..._

Crab-walking toward the headboard, he trembled when he realized the bed sheets were drenched in gore. Various limbs – human and deer – littered the room, and he jolted when Abigail's voice reached him from the side.

"You could've saved me, you know," she said. "All these years I've been taken advantage of, but where were you, Will? Where _were_ you?"

He regarded her then, mouth dry when he discerned that she, too was covered in blood. "I...I couldn't have known," he weakly insisted. "Back then, there was no reason to investigate your father..."

Abigail's laugh was brittle. "Yeah, well it's all your fault. You're supposed to be such an expert on people and their behaviors, but in this case you _failed._ And you know what? It might as well've been _you_ who raped me."

"No," Will choked. "Shut up! That's not true!"

"It _is_ true! Every time he touched me, it was on _you!_ It's _your_ fault that you didn't catch him before he snapped!"

Clapping his hands over his ears, Will gave a tortured shout and cried, "It's not true, goddammit... Stop _lying_ like that!"

"You _would_ think I was lying, wouldn't you? It's just like a man to ignore the ugly truth!"

Will was on her then, pinning her down with his knees as he wrapped his hands around her throat. "Take it back!" he sobbed. "Take it _back!"_

"I won't take back what's true!" Abigail rasped, her face reddening as he squeezed her neck. Bucking and twisting beneath him, her voice grew hoarse as she choked out, "You're no better than him...you caught him because you both think the _same!"_

"NO!" Gritting his teeth, Will tightened his hold and pressed down on her windpipe, reveling in the panicked look on her face as she swiped at his head and shoulders. She caught him on the cheek with her nails.

Strangled sobs soon reached his ears and he shushed her, his lips almost smiling as he promised he'd make all the hurt go away. Abigail gurgled once and then went still. Her arms fell limply at her sides and the blood, limbs and gore suddenly seemed to melt away from the room.

Will jerked awake. With his body vaulting upright in terror, he sensed Abigail out of the corner of his eye and fearfully shook her by the arm. "Hey...hey Abby, wake up."

"Hmm?" She stirred and squinted at him over her shoulder. "What's the matter with you, huh? You're sweating like a pig."

Unable to hold back his relieved laughter, Will dropped his forehead against her back and exhaled. "Nothing, I just...nothing. I'm glad you're ok."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, I just... I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's alright." Feeling her hand capture his wrist, Will released a breath when she urged him against her. He knew what would happen next, and it wasn't enough – maybe it never would be. The nightmares were officially back, so he felt – no, he _needed_ to be inside her for everything to be safe again.

"Abby," he whispered against her hair, "Abby, please..."

She instantly understood. Wriggling against his throbbing hardness, Abigail pushed her jeans down to her knees and bit her lip, her breath hitching as she reached behind her and cupped him through his pants. "I need you, too," she assured him. "Please, Will...make it all go away."

He sighed and arched his hips into her grasping hand, groaning as his pants grew painfully tight around his erection. "Abby, I can't undo what your father did..."

"Yes, you can," she whispered back. "You already have."

Closing his eyes, Will kissed her hair and fussed with his zipper. After he'd removed his pants and boxers, Abigail arched her back so that her ass pressed snugly against his front. He trembled. When he curled a hand between her legs, he was shocked to find how wet she already was.

"Hurry up," Abigail pleaded.

With only a moment's hesitation, he buried himself inside her to the hilt, his lips steeling back a hiss as he gritted his teeth and felt her body snugly take him in.

Grunting, Will pressed his face against the nape of her neck and gently bit down, his lips and tongue working against her skin as he began to diligently move inside her. Cupping her breasts, he shuddered and listened to her soft moans. His hand crept upward in order to take her by the chin. Promptly forcing her to look at him over her shoulder, he brought their lips roughly together as he slid his tongue inside her mouth. Groaning into the heated kiss, he gave several quick, powerful thrusts as he licked and bit at her lips, his hand sliding through her hair as the bed continued to rock violently from side to side. The electrical feeling coursing through his veins almost made him euphoric. He knew she wanted him, but his perverse side wanted to hear her sounds to reaffirm the fact.

"Faster," Abigail begged. "I don't want gentle..."

Kissing his way down from her neck to her shoulder, Will groaned against her skin and pounded into her more forcefully. He could feel all of his frustration and self-loathing channeling into his thrusts, each movement alternating in between quick and frantic to slow and forceful.

Panting and gasping against her neck, he shuddered as he felt her inner muscles squeezing him tightly. His teeth sank into her shoulder in order to quiet his moans as he frantically jerked his hips. She was warmth...she was light...she was _hope,_ and he knew he could never lose those feelings.

Desperate to prolong the inevitable, Will withdrew from Abigail's warm haven and flipped her around in his embrace, his arms now lifting her up so that he pinned her against the mattress. Bringing his lips to hers, he forced her to sink back down onto his shaft as he continued to ravage her at a more vigorous pace. She whined and gripped his dark locks.

Cursing when he felt Abigail milking him, Will panted against her neck and shuddered as her legs squeezed his hips, her nails digging into his shoulders as he gave several low, animalistic grunts. He felt his arousal pulse inside her, and then he came in a sudden, violent thrust that left him quivering from head to toe.

For once Will was the first to recover. His teeth clenched as he slowly withdrew from her warmth, all the while groaning at the loss of contact.

Abigail raised her leg and draped it over his hip, urging him back against her as her lips sought his. Unlike most of their kisses, this one was soft and sweet. Will could taste her lost innocence on his tongue.

Weaving her fingers through his hair, Abigail gave him one last kiss before moving to sit up. "Shouldn't we get back on the road soon?"

Will smiled and touched her thigh. "Yeah...don't worry, we'll go before long. I just need to shave and get dressed first."

"Ok – I'll clean up while you do that." With a grin, she leaned over Will to grab a handful of tissues from the nightstand, her lips quickly meeting his before she withdrew. "Hurry up."

Will slowly rose and stretched. Watching as Abigail began to clean the mess on the sheets, he felt his cheeks color when she wiped at the spot between her thighs. It seemed so primal claiming her in that way – by showing his ownership through bite marks and fluids – but he hated to admit he loved seeing the flushed look on her face. It suggested that she was happy and sated.

Sending her one last introspective look, Will grabbed his overnight bag and headed into the bathroom.

 

 

* * *

"What? Leaving so soon?"

Will nodded. "Yeah, like I said earlier, we just wanted to rest up for a while." He placed a hand on Abigail's shoulder and smiled, tracing several soft, reverent shapes along her back. She beamed and hugged him around the waist.

Startled by her blatant PDA, Will tried to act nonchalant, but it was already too late. The clerk was eyeing him very queerly.

"You're bleeding there, son."

"Huh?" Bringing a hand to his face, he looked down at a bright red, half-clotted smear across his fingers. He must've cut himself while shaving. "I, uh...thanks," he stammered. "How much do we owe?"

With his eyes never leaving Will's, the clerk slid his information book forward and said, "Fifty bucks."

"Alright, um...hang on." Trying to detract himself from Abigail's snug embrace – to which she responded by hanging on tighter – Will removed his wallet and proceeded to pay. After he'd checked out and provided all the necessary information, he smiled at the squat man and said, "Thanks a lot."

"Sure thing, son. You take care now."

As Will turned around with Abigail in tow, she giggled and attempted to slide a hand down the front of his pants. He jerked away in surprise. Once they were well into the parking lot, the clerk grabbed his phone and began to frantically dial 911.

 

 

* * *

"Jack, I don't think you're hearing me: Will is having _sexual relations_ with a former _minor."_

"I can hear you just fine," he fired back. "But believe it or not, Dr. Bloom, your repeating yourself – and _loudly_ – isn't helping us find them any faster."

Alana's cheeks burned. "Tell him, Dr. Lecter – tell him how serious this is."

Hannibal didn't appear pleased to be put on the spot, but he gave a stiff nod of acquiescence. "Though Alana is right, I do not believe that Will is an immediate danger to Abigail. The emotional attachment far outweighs the physical, in my humble opinion."

Alana shot him a withering look. "We need to send out an APB right away! Are you both forgetting how Will _broke the law_ before Abigail turned 18?"

Crawford grimaced. "Look, I get why you're so passionate about this – believe me, it isn't easy for me to stomach, either – but these things take time. I can't risk botching the investigation by diving in headfirst."

Alana moved to give an impatient retort, but Crawford's cell interrupted her train of thought.

"Hold on," he urged. Lifting the phone up to his ear, he cleared his throat and greeted, "Special Agent Jack Crawford speaking."

Alana and Lecter both watched on as his eyes grew wide, followed soon after by the blood draining from his face. "Oh, God," he breathed. "Are you _sure?_   That can't be right..." He passed a hand over his mouth and exhaled. "Alright, thanks for letting me know first. Yeah, uh-huh...sure. Goodbye."

As Crawford hung up, Alana was immediately at his side. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

Releasing a shaky breath, Jack gestured to the chairs in front of him. "I think you both should have a seat."


	6. Kyrie Eleison

Alana sat staring blankly ahead at the wall, not even responding when Dr. Lecter placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Alana," he gently coaxed, "how are you feeling?"

She gave a bitter laugh. "You'll have to forgive me, Doctor, but I'm not exactly in the mood to be psychoanalyzed right now."

"I assure you, I am merely asking as a friend." Lightly retracting his hand, he stared down at her miserable expression and added, "If I were to psychoanalyze you, I would be expecting a considerable fee."

Alana cracked a weak smile at that. "Thanks, you're such a charmer." Wiping at her eyes (even though they were dry), she released a breath and leaned back in her seat. "What about you? How are you handling this?"

"Will is my friend – I am handling things the way one would expect."

Alana's mouth lifted in a disbelieving curve. "Yeah? Are you expected to be remarkably calm?"

"I cannot help the way I emote – if it displeases you, I apologize."

"No, no, of course not... We all handle grief differently." Absently fiddling with the hem of her skirt, her voice was soft and full of defeat as she confessed, "You were right, you know...about my feelings for Will."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "It's just so _hard_ to accept what happened, because I might've been able to stop it. If I'd only paid more attention..."

"Dreaming of the past is pointless, Alana."

"I know," she whispered, "I know, but... Oh, Hannibal, I feel so badly for Abigail. She's my patient, so I can't help but feel responsible."

Lecter's face was blank as he touched her back. "Abigail would not wish you to feel this way – you know as well as I how detrimental it is to dwell on what cannot be changed."

In a rare moment of weakness, Alana looked up at him with unshed tears in her eyes. "Yes...I know. But what I also know is I need a friend right now, so if you don't mind...? That is, if you're willing...?"

"Of course I will be here, Alana," Lecter gently assured her. "In spite of our recent friction, I do consider you a friend. I would be honored to lend my emotional support."

"Thank you," Alana whispered. When she reached out to squeeze his hand, he surprised her by taking her into his arms. Feeling a lump in her throat, she returned the embrace and rested her head against his chest, her eyes tightly closing as she willed out the horrors in her mind. She knew what was coming from the police – she knew what fate Will would suffer – and she hated to admit she felt relief now that Hannibal would be there. She'd especially need him during the impending trial.

As Lecter rested his chin in her hair, Alana looked up and saw Jack Crawford walk past the door. She knew Will's capture was imminent.

* * *

Abigail continued to sit in the car with her knees drawn up to her chest, her expression blank and bored as Will got into the car and sat beside her. "So what's the damage?"

"Tow truck's on its way," he promised.

"Yeah? And what about the clerk?"

"What about him?"

"Didn't he seem kinda... _off_ to you?"

Will's brow puckered and he shook his head. "No, not really... He's actually the one who offered to call the truck."

"Oh." Expression unconvinced, Abigail hugged her knees more tightly and said, "He was totally giving us the evil eye when we tried to leave – I think he knows."

"Well if he does, that's completely on you. It wasn't necessary to keep touching me like that."

Abigail sneered. "Well can I help it that you're so damn touchable?" Leaning over and poking Will's ribs, she laughed as he squirmed and tried to avoid her prodding fingers.

"Cut that out," he warned.

"Why? Afraid you'll get turned on and the old man will see?"

Face coloring, Will glared off to the side as she cupped his cheeks.

"C'mon, let's make-out."

"Are you kidding me right now? Someone might see us..."

Abigail's eyes sparkled mischievously. "I know – that's what makes it so hot." As she leaned in to kiss him, the telltale sound of large, relentless raindrops began to pelt the car from all sides.

"Great," Will muttered. "On top of a non-starting engine, we've now got a bunch of wet clothes in our future."

Abigail smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "So what? Rain's kind of romantic." Tracing her fingers along the back of his hand, her smile widened as she whispered, "This should totally be our first date."

Will laughed at that. "A _date?_ Well, I certainly can't remember the last time I've been on one of those..."

"At this rate, the same will go for me.” Interlocking their fingers, Abigail curled her legs up beneath her and sighed. "I never thought it was possible to be this happy... Even when things were fine with my family, I never felt this good inside."

Will released a shaky breath. "I...I don't want to talk about your family."

"Of course you don't – I'm sorry," Abigail mumbled. With the down-pouring rain reflecting in her eyes, she placed a hand on his chest and whispered, "I know you hate him for being my first, but I hope you'll be my last. I love you, Will."

He looked at her sharply then, for no woman had said those words since his mother left. Was she lying? Was she trying to make him feel better?

Seemingly aware of Will's inability to trust – especially when said trust involved himself – Abigail gripped his hands and forced him to return her gaze. "Will, I mean it… I hate to get all gushy on you, but you’ve helped me in more ways than you could ever know.”

His bottom lip trembled. In that moment, his soul was warm and full. He'd never thought it possible to ever feel that way again.

Wordlessly, he pulled her into his lap and pressed his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her cheeks as he felt her sweet breath on his face.

"Is this your way of saying I'm a keeper?" she teased.

Smiling up at her pleased expression, Will nodded and softly agreed, "Yeah... I think I'll keep you around for a while."

Joining his lips urgently with hers, he slid his hands over Abigail's rump and arched their hips together. He suddenly didn't care if the clerk saw.

* * *

When Crawford finally found Beverly Katz, he was overcome by the grief in her down-turned face. "Zeller said you weren't handling the news very well – do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she whispered. Though she hadn't been crying, her voice sounded strained and small. "Will made his choice...what else is there to discuss?"

"Plenty," Crawford fired back. Now moving to sit beside her, he studied her sullen profile and frowned. "None of us could've seen this coming, Agent Katz. I hope you're not blaming yourself for what happened."

Beverly gave a dry, unfeeling laugh. "I told him to follow his heart – I told him to stick it to everyone and do what he wanted, and then _this_ happens? You're damn right, I'm blaming myself!"

Crawford winced. "Will's darker side was a surprise to all of us, so really, Katz, I understand. And more importantly, I'll understand if you don't want to be involved when we finally nab him."

"I need to be there," she insisted. "I need to look him in the eye and see that he did it. I _need_ to be sure that he's guilty."

"We're already pretty sure of his guilt," Crawford said. "The clerk reported his findings earlier this morning, and now we're just waiting on a positive ID. He said he'd take a look once we arrive."

Beverly sniffed and looked away. "Right, well...I guess that's life. You always try and prepare yourself for the future, but no matter what you do, in the long run there'll always be something that...that just completely _floors_ you."

In an uncharacteristic moment of compassion, Crawford put a hand on Beverly's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "Meet me in the parking lot in five minutes," he urged. "The team and I are heading out shortly."

After Crawford left the room and the door swung shut, Beverly Katz had her first meltdown since her sister committed murder.

* * *

It was soon midday, and there was still no sign of the tow truck. Eyes closing sleepily, Will felt Abigail's arms tighten around his waist and he smiled, resting his cheek in her hair as the rain continued to steadily beat against the windshield.

"Will?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think you’ll always be in my life?"

He paused, his brow puckering as he stroked her back. "I hope so," he finally whispered. By this point he thought – no, he _knew_ he needed Abigail by his side, for the thought of being without her was astoundingly horrific. Losing her would surely break him.

He heard Abigail sigh, then her hand came over his as her lips brushed against his ear. "I hope so, too," she whispered back.

Will smiled and pulled her into his lap for a proper embrace. As he kissed her forehead, he sensed the bobbing of headlights and jerked when he realized they were no longer alone. Turning to glance out the window, he pressed a hand against the glass and watched Crawford's car come into view. Behind him, three other police vehicles rolled to a gravelly stop.

"Oh, shit," Abigail whispered. "Will, what are we going to do?"

"Just stay quiet," he urged. Trying his best to remain calm, he exhaled and observed Crawford draw nearer. He motioned for Will to unroll his window.

"Don't do it," Abigail begged. "Please, Will, just lock the doors – they're going to keep us from being together!"

Will gripped her hand and softly apologized, "I'm sorry, Abby, but it's too late for that now... If they really want to get in this car, they'll find a way." He heard her make a noise of protest, but he rolled down his window and peered out at Crawford. "Uhh…afternoon, Jack."

"Will, I need you to step out of the car, please."

He paused, then gave him an uneasy smile. "Is this about Abigail? Because I promise you, she wanted to come... We're just out celebrating her birthday."

Crawford exchanged glances with the men flanking his sides. Beverly was milling in the background, appearing uncomfortable and anxious.

"What?" Will pressed. He couldn't understand why they were all looking at him so queerly.

Finally, Crawford had had just about enough. "Will, I'm only going to ask you this once more: get _out_ of the car."

Will caught Beverly's pained gaze then, but she immediately looked away. What was the matter with her? Did she really think him so horrible now that she knew the truth?

Unable to stand the tension, Will finally opened the car door and gave a cry when two strong, beefy cops slammed him down against the hood. "Wait, what's going on here? I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Will..."

"Tell them, Abby! _Tell_ them!"

Panicked, he gazed at Abigail through the windshield and struggled more forcefully. "Please, Abby...tell them what happened!"

"Will, Abigail Hobbs is _dead!"_

It suddenly felt as if a large, freezing bucket of ice water had been dumped over his person. Frozen to the spot, Will's lips flapped soundlessly before he finally managed to choke out, "I... _what?"_

Crawford's voice was much softer this time as he said, "She's dead, Will – we're getting the body now."

Managing to wrestle free of the policemen, Will frantically began gesturing to his car. "Abigail's here, Jack! _Look_ at her! She can't be inside!" When his eyes met with where he was pointing, he gave a sharp gasp when he realized the car was empty.

Abigail Hobbs was gone.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no, no, this isn't happening...this isn't _real!_ Abigail is _alive!"_

As Crawford shook his head, Beverly turned away and placed a hand over her mouth.

"C'mon, Jack, you know me...I would _never_ hurt her. She was...she's my..." Trailing off, a sudden wave of nausea overtook him when he recalled the clerk's odd reaction to the blood on his cheek. Could that have been...?

 _No._ Abigail had scratched him in a _nightmare,_ not real life. He was positive that he'd nicked himself while shaving.

The sudden jarring, squeaky noise of rattling wheels startled Will to attention and he paled, the breath stripping from his lungs when he saw the coroner wheeling a body from a motel room.

"Abigail!" he cried. "Abby, wait!"

Racing over to the cart before he could be stopped, Will shoved the coroner off to the side and tore at the body bag. With quivering hands, he unzipped the plastic casing and sobbed along with his movements.

"Will, _stop!"_

Ignoring Crawford, Will pushed the covering aside, but was apprehended just as a soft, pale face came into view. The girl's eyes were blue and full of fear.

"Abby!" he screamed. _"Abby!"_ Feeling his knees give out, he collapsed just as the cops began dragging him away from the body.

"She loved me," he moaned. "She said she _loved_ me!"

"Will, calm down..."

"NO!"

Eyes wild and frantic, he shivered and shook as they forced him into one of the police cars. With handcuffs freshly placed around his wrists, Will bowed his head and choked on a sob. "She loved me," he woefully repeated over and over again. "She _loved_ me..."

As the cops shut the door, Beverly turned to Crawford and tried to remain neutral.

"Well?" he softly asked. "Did you get your proof?"

With her lips quivering, Beverly nodded and gave a pained, "Yes... It's just...I never thought it'd be this hard."

"Losing a brilliant mind is always hard."

Running a finger along her lips, she nodded in agreement and asked, "What now?"

"I suspect Chilton will take Graham on as a patient – he's always wanted to study his mind, so now he'll get the chance." Crawford's tone was hushed and indignant as he spoke these words. There was no question that Will would be fought over like a piece of meat. As much as he hated physicians and their questions, he now had no choice but to answer to them for the rest of his life.

As Beverly turned to leave, he called after her retreating back, "Agent Katz?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Go ahead and take the rest of the week off."

Despite the fact she knew she should be grateful, Beverly couldn't even crack a smile as she nodded and got into her car.

* * *

Will had been under Dr. Frederick Chilton's watchful eye for two months now, and there was still no immediate sign of improvement. In Will's first month, he'd babbled, rarely ate, slept, or drank, and would often call out to Abigail and carry on conversations with the deceased.

Every now and then Will had spoken to the staff – albeit simple, trivial remarks – and hope had momentarily arisen. Only now? Chilton was beginning to doubt Will would ever recover. He'd seemed fine up until about a week ago. When an orderly had read Will an anonymous letter, the former agent had screamed and rocked and cried before falling into a catatonic state. Even now, Chilton still couldn't understand the meaning behind the message.

Gazing down at said note in frustration, Chilton unfolded the dog-eared page and went over the eloquent lines one last time:

_Dear Will:_

_It's a cold and primitive world we live in, is it not? Our ravenous, blood-stained jaws snap at the throats of our competition – even at the throats of those we love most._

_Tell me: did it hurt to see your lady love on the cold slab? To touch her lifeless lips and realize they will never again rest upon yours? Or maybe, just maybe, it had felt good to see her cloaked in the shroud of death. It had felt GOOD to kill her and keep anyone else from deciding her expiration. No...not even God was allowed to determine Abigail's fate. You saw to that. It was your last thoughtful, undying gift to her for bringing you so much happiness. By ending her existence, you made her immortal. It's all really quite brilliant. My highest congratulations and/or condolences._

_I only have one question more for you, dear Will: when you studied the bodies I slayed, did you realize my value? My self-worth? Did you discover that the same coarse, animalistic blood runs through our very veins? As much as you may wish to deny it, we are the same, Will, and the proof is in the blood on your hands. You see, we didn't kill those people – we saved them._

_In the matter of your stay with that bumbling, second rate fool of a doctor, I wish you a speedy convalescence so that we may continue these chats (despite any reservations you may have on such matters). I believe your first words were 'You won't like me when I'm psychoanalyzed'? Such charm and cheek all at once. I should've known we'd be compatriots right from the very start._

_Devotedly Yours,_

_A Dear and Empathetic Friend_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyrie Eleison = Latin for "Lord Have Mercy"
> 
> I'm still not fully happy with this re-write, but it's a lot better than it was. Maybe if I stop picking at it, I'll eventually stop cringing. lol
> 
> Anywhos, if you feel like stalking me, you can add my musicboxmcmories URL on Tumblr, or my YouTube username, KendraLuehr. I update both fairly regularly.


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